


The Retrospective of the Exarch

by ElyseEstheim



Series: The Diary of the Exarch [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: 5.0 spoilers, Bard WoL, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE FINISHED THE MSQ, F/M, Miqo’te WoL, Shadowbringers Spoilers, THERE’S A SEQUEL NOW YEEEE, shadowbringers, shb spoilers, you will thank me later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 11:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20375728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElyseEstheim/pseuds/ElyseEstheim
Summary: Being the historian he is, G’raha Tia would be remiss in failing to write down his experiences in the First. But being the largely emotional creature he is, especially where the Warrior of Light is concerned, he couldn’t simply write as if he wasn’t involved. And so, as a nobleman of Ishgard once did, he decided to write a personal journal instead in the hopes of leaving behind the legacy of the woman as much as the Warrior.





	The Retrospective of the Exarch

-The First-

A long, long time I slept, there in the Great Crystal Tower. Even longer, however, was I awake. Thank the Twelve the Tower has a library, myself a quill and ink, and the world a wealth of information to discover. I learned a great many things in the tomes that lay within and without, the primary focus of my research being my beloved friend, but the greatest knowledge in this regard was outside my reach... until now. 

This story is of a rather personal nature, but I am not foolish enough to think that this journal will not one day find its way into the hands of another seeker of truth like myself, especially given the subject matter. Pray allow me, then, to relate this tale of my Warrior of Light and Darkness to you all, and may you find hope and comfort in times of great trial within in these pages, as I did under the weight of her gaze.

###########

I ran at once to find her upon realizing my unfortunate miscalculation with regard to where she should end up following the journey through the Rift. Full glad was I to see her safe and whole as our capable Captain of the Guard dispatched one of those wretched beasts of light just beyond where she stood. I have no doubt she would have done so as well, even given her ignorance of their nature, but all the same... I could not help but feel a twinge of panic as the godsdamned thing loomed behind her as she stood there unawares. I yearned to run then until I had taken her into my arms... a near thing that I didn’t, but my heart leapt as it had not in over a hundred years when I beheld her. My inspiration, my fascination, my _salvation_, here in the flesh. Had I lacked the obscurity my hood provided, she would have discovered my eyes a touch misty ere they caught hers.

Which, coincidentally, was _precisely_ why I had intended to summon her directly to the Ocular rather than out in the open, at least in part. I had no idea how fully my emotions would rage upon seeing her again, but I suspected. The desire to reveal myself to her was ever-present right from the start, at times more than others, but just as I was enraptured by her, so, too, did I need to protect her. And to do that, it was strictly necessary she remain in the dark as to my identity. But when she asked after the young man she last saw walking beyond closing doors with one last fond glance over his shoulder, I nearly dropped the deception for my surprise. That she would not only remember me, but care enough to wonder at my well-being? I had rarely known such joy, such relief. If only I could tell her the truth, and share a few moments as just us before this is all over... but precious few occasions have I been so lucky.

Case in point - the fact that what this world needs from her would see her falter in mortal capacity, had I naught to say about it. My yearning for some time alone with her is already significant, but when the reality of the situation is taken into account, I want almost nothing more than to take her to my chambers and seal the doors until the danger has passed. Each time she returns with one more night sky restored, my heart aches knowing the very real possibility exists wherein she would suffer, and it grows ever closer with each burden of light. Would that I could share it with her, even if only a little, to alleviate some of the strain... but the time has yet to arrive for any of that. If I misstep and she discovers me, the worlds, and more importantly, _she_, may be forever lost. 

Sometimes, though, I am nearly certain she knows who I am. A strange glint shines in her eyes when my usual sarcasm breaks through. At times, I catch her staring at my hands, though I’m unsure what this would tell her. I am certain she’s tried to steal a glimpse under the hood if light allows, or if I lose my focus for one reason or another. 

I wish she would say something to let me know. 

I wish _I_ could say something to confirm it for her. 

Perhaps I could play to how closely she was watching me, I thought. I felt her eyes follow me whenever she knew mine were averted. She and I had spent a considerable amount of time together investigating the Tower when I was young; she knew most of my peculiarities quite well, and I hers. Perhaps I could allow myself to play a rather dangerous game and help her to confirm her suspicions by letting more of my old self outshine the Exarch. 

And so, mayhap foolishly, I did. Once I had worked out her reasons for staring at my hands (she, being a fellow Miqo’te, _would_ know the subtle characteristics of the men and boys of our race), I flexed my fingers once or twice when I knew she was looking. Adopted the traditional Miqo’te male posturing when General Ran’jit threatened my people, if only slightly. Perked my ears a margin under the hood to make a show of my attention to her words. Made her sandwiches in addition to the food the culinarians put together, which I was later happy to see had been finished off quickly. I had made her favorite. This was like to be my strongest gamble, but I hoped it would bring that lovely smile to her face regardless. She no doubt recalled our silly, fatigue-driven debate regarding the merits of the simple meal as the ideal travel staple for adventurers as we slogged through the Labyrinth archives all those years ago, and I had my doubts as to whether the topic had been breached with any others as to her preferences thereto. 

And then, she found me dozing behind a boulder in Kholusia. Where I had been dreaming of our adventures, of her, and the moment I’d left them all behind to save them. 

_My destiny is where the future awaits._

I know she heard me say these words as I drifted back into consciousness. Her recollection and shock were plain on her face as my eyes opened to it. I dismissed it as a simple daydream, but she knew. I knew she knew. I could not utter one of the last things I ever said to her and have her _not_ know even had I offered no other indication as to my identity. Yet she stayed silent on the matter, instead inquiring as to my well-being. Sitting with me. Taking full advantage of the one moment of peace we might ever have to ourselves again. I dared hope her heart may lie with mine as mine with hers, even if only a little, so when she expressed her desire to know more of me, I allowed the old me to share in the moment. I confessed to her in as many words as could be shared with circumstances as they were, and she smiled that brilliant, blazing smile of hers, eyes warm and bright and full of something I tried very desperately to ignore lest I drop the charade right then and there. 

I likewise tried to ignore the way her hand twitched as if to reach out to me when I expressed my desire to travel at her side. As we walked back together, however, I was full aware of the way her hand brushed against mine, and did not resist taking it in my own. She gave my hand a squeeze, a gesture I returned, and too soon she switched and held mine with her far hand as we grew closer to the village, so as to move the one between us to the small of my back. I understood why, despite the sting. It thus appeared more like she was assisting me with making my way back to Amity, rather than a man and a woman taking solace in the weave of their fingers. She understood the need to keep up appearances while being quite unwilling to part until absolutely necessary. I wanted to tell her how her touch strengthened me and my resolve for what would come all too soon. Alas, this was not the time. 

Nevertheless, I cannot deny the fact that something had changed between us following my confession by the rocks. I could feel her long looks, laced with the certainty of who I am, and the perplexity as to why I remained incognito. I should never have been surprised that she suspected correctly from the very beginning... that is the strength of her attention to detail and her natural intuition. Of _course_ she would know it was me. It was no shock either that she would remain silent on the matter, trusting I had my reasons for upholding the deception. I do not deserve her. 

But I adore her, and so I must stay the course. Just as she is watching me, so, too, have I been watching her. That she tires far more quickly now that her spirit is holding myriad Lightwardens has not escaped my notice. How her headaches come more frequently, but are more often than not unrelated to the Echo. Y’shtola mentioned recently that there seems to be a reflection of her aether ever close at hand and fears her soul has been “forced out” little by little in order to make room for the light within. Her words concern me, but at the same time, when the worry is too much to bear and I’ve used the portal in the Ocular to look in on her during her private moments, it has appeared as if she’s... speaking to someone. I can only imagine her companion is some sort of fae, a spirit or some such perhaps. It does not seem to cause her distress, so I never inquire as to the truth of this mysterious presence. I am not wont to deny her any comfort she may find in these final moments.

Then it came time to conquer the great mountain Vauthry had claimed as his new paradise. I saw her off with a smile, which she returned, but as soon as she walked away, I very nearly broke. Urianger only met my eyes for a moment before he turned to follow the strongest of their number, and the pain in his eyes was the final crack in the dam. I was never more grateful for the cover my hood provided as my eyes filled with tears. A bittersweet feeling, to know that I had finally revealed to her how I feel, but would not be there to explore the possibilities said confession carried. But at least, she would survive. 

I made my way step by belabored step up the mountainside, through the carnage left in the Scions’ wake, feeling strangely lighter the closer to the summit I drew. Each step brought me closer to her, to saving her, to saving the First and saving our home as well. I thought of my friends back home as I walked. Krile, Rammbroes, Cid and everyone at the Ironworks, Unei and Doga... even that old fool Nero came to mind, much as I wished he hadn’t. I thought of the adventures I had with NOAH and my sweet Warrior, back when her title was more famous than she was. I remembered how we had to force each other to rest during our survey of the Tower, how petulant I was with her when she tried to tear me from a particularly fascinating document we had discovered near Phlegethon’s chamber, how she wrapped her arms and her legs around my body to hold me down until I gave in and retired for the night. 

She was always far more mature than I was, for all my knowledge.

I remembered the first time I wrapped my arms around her, accompanied by a shawl, she awoken by a nightmare and willing the cold air of the Mor Dhonan night to freeze away the memory of it. I thought about the way she rested her head back against me and we just sat quietly, me running my hand through her hair in an attempt to work some of the tangles out of it. Even mussed as it was, her hair was so soft... as were her lips and her skin, I found out moments later. Not because I gathered the courage to ask to kiss her, but because she fell asleep on my shoulder and curled her face into my neck as I carried her back to her tent. I think that moment was when I was well and truly hers, to be honest. She allowed me that moment without hesitation, trusted me with her vulnerability. I would not take that for granted. She showed me that young woman again by the rock as we chatted, rather than simply the Warrior, and I repaid her in kind as she inquired as to my inner musings. I knew she had precious few she trusted with her doubts and insecurities and I would not see them neglected. 

I had nearly reached her when I heard panicked shouts of her name, and I ran the rest of the way, stopping short when I beheld her crouched figure and the pure white splattered on the ground before her. My heart and mind took over my body and I felt fatigue no longer. After announcing my intentions as I arrived, barely hearing the Scions’ protestations or Urianger’s harsh command to leave me to my ministrations, I lost myself in trying to save both her soul and her heart, telling her some lie with regard to my motivations in an attempt to keep her from despairing overmuch at my impending departure. My last ruse, however, I knew she would never believe. Not after the rock outside Amity. Not after Mor Dhona. Certainly not after Y’shtola understood, and consequently revealed, my true intentions. 

And so I abandoned the poor ruse and resolved to speak my heart, offering what consolation and comfort I could as she knelt before me on the verge of turning. Told her how content I was in playing the part of her protector. I intensified the spell to relieve her of the burden of light and, to my horror, the force of it pushed my cowl off and revealed all. And then, she shouted my name. With such... pain, such heartbreak, such fear in her voice. 

All I could do was say goodbye, and make absolutely sure she knew my most important motivation behind all of this - my love and adoration for her. My inspiration. My star. My friend and partner in the quest for knowledge. My dearest, dearest adventurer. Her eyes widened once I had confessed all and said the last of my farewells, but not in the way I would necessarily have expected. As a bloom of heat and pain grew in my chest, I suddenly understood why, and the last thing I saw was her panicked expression and her hand outstretched. 

######

I gasped out her name as I awoke with a start, and was quite surprised not only to find myself alive, but in the... _care_, of Emet-Selch. “Ah, good, you’re finally awake,” he threw over his shoulder, facing out an enormous window as he was. “I put the finishing touches on bells ago.”

“I beg your pardon?” I asked. I was curious, as I did not know these surroundings in any world, but I kept my pained voice as airy and uncaring as possible. I would not give him the satisfaction.

“You find yourself in the great Ascian city of Amaurot,” the immortal declared with arms spread wide, twirling lazily in place in a sweeping motion toward that which was framed by the window before him - more towering structures than I could count. “Or, at least a very, very good recreation.” I glanced around as I attempted to sit upright, wincing with a hand to my side as I did so. The bullet wound had yet to heal, as was evident by the sharp pain accompanying even the slightest movement, and my extended time this far from the Tower was taking its toll. There was a great need to escape this mad fool, and I would not forsake any opportunity to do so. 

“Where is she?” I demanded. The erstwhile architect sighed, longsuffering, his eyes rolling in petulance. 

“Oh come now, you could at least pretend to be impressed. I had to make all this out of old ruins from memory, you know.”

“How lovely for you. Where. Is. She.” I steeled my gaze, quite unwilling to play his ridiculous games a moment longer when my dear warrior was still in grave danger. His lip curled at one corner in disgust as a means of initial reply.

“Ugh. The things love does to a man’s sense of courtesy... _fine_. She’s still her, for all intents and purposes, but I don’t expect it will remain so for much longer.” My hands clenched in fury. How could he be so... blasé about her condition? Did he not desire her and the Scions to ally with him? He noticed the tension in my body, as I was, even injured, coiled as if ready to attack. He only raised a brow. “Now, now, Exarch, there will be no need for fisticuffs. I have invited her for a visit, you see? Though, even if I had not, I suspect she would show up at some point anyhow.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because she is her, and you are you, _G’raha Tia_.” The way he said my name made my remaining flesh crawl and I would sooner it never fell from another soul’s lips than from his even once more. “The great Sharlayan historian, keeper of Allag’s many secrets, the one entrusted with Royal Blood so as to control one of the most powerful Concepts in all the reflections. And you, what? Used all that power _just_ to save her?”

“Yes,” I answered, sans hesitation. He stared as if dumbfounded by my answer. That, or perhaps searching my very soul to ascertain the truth of it all. In the end, he simply scoffed, waving a hand in the air in his usual dismissive, apathetic manner, and my anger finally got the better of me. “Why must you disparage her so? She is the very best of us, certainly more so than you!”

The earlier chortle blossomed into laughter in whole. “Is she, now? She who, at this very moment, is one temper tantrum away from becoming the most devastating beast this pale reflection has ever known? Greater even than me, what farce.” His laughter died down and his grin twisted darkly. “Your love for her has blinded you even more than the light with which she bursts at the seams.”

“Better blinded by love than blindsided by arrogance,” I countered, flexing my fingers instinctively as the Ascian stopped in his tracks. “She _will_ prevail. I doubt she knows how to do anything but.” Slowly, he turned again to face me, a lopsided grin marking his features. 

“My dear Exarch, ‘tis not arrogance with which I conduct my business.” He fixed me with a hard gaze, which I returned in stride. “‘Tis experience, of years exceeding _millennia_. ‘Tis careful, meticulous planning and observation of everything you and yours have done, your predecessors, even you and her before either of you were the leaders you are now.” 

I raised a brow, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come now, Emet-Selch. Perhaps those things are true, but you cannot expect me to see anything but pure, unadulterated hubris in your every moment.” The Ascian merely shrugged, and turned his gaze back out the window. He remained silent for a time, and then, suddenly, brightened in what I could only interpret as _excitement_. 

“Ah, our guest of honor arrives. That didn’t take nearly as long as I thought it would.” He turned back to me only just. “She must _really_ like you, Exarch. Or, she’s already too far gone to care anymore. Either way, I must go and play the Good Host, so make yourself comfortable in my absence. We shall have all the time in the world to continue our discussions later. Perhaps I will bring her here to you, as an act of good faith, before she loses herself to the light.” He paused for a moment and there was stark pain in his downward gaze. “Every man deserves the chance to say their last goodbye, after all.” 

I was taken aback by his demeanor. Not once during any of his visits did he reveal any real semblance of humanity. ‘Twas nearly enough to bid me share my sympathies, but he opened the door to exit and was halfway out of it before I could open my mouth. He stopped short, leaning his head back into the room. “Oh, and while you may be tempted to... wander, in my absence, I doubt your present countenance would allow for it, so pray let me put your troubled mind at ease. We are situated at the very bottoms of the Tempest at present. There is air, but only here. I daresay the escape you have doubtlessly been considering is not an option. Therefore, should you find some burst of energy, feel free to go out and see the glory of Ascian Ingenuity, of that which I strive to return to original form. Perhaps, then, I will cease to appear quite as malevolent to you and yours.” And with that, he was gone. 

Myriad thoughts crossed my mind at once, of Amaurot and Ascians and what in the _Twelve_ those giant dark figures were roaming the streets below the window, but my overwhelming focus was her. She was here. She was coming for me. She was coming to stop Emet-Selch.

She _must not._

Icy fear gripped my heart as I knew she must be on the verge of a fate worse than death. That she was still going at all was a great relief, and I was sure Ryne must have done something to preserve her in the meantime, but there was precious little time left to her no matter what magicks had been rendered. And so, I gathered what strength I had left, took my staff in hand, and went after the Ascian. Looking for her in this sprawling city would take too much time. She would cross paths with Emet-Selch ere long, so keeping him in sight was my best chance.

My gamble paid off not long into my mission, and I watched as he bade her experience a very real simulation of Amaurot’s final days as a means to prove her worth. Fool. That he could not see her worth by simply looking at her was beyond my comprehension. She expertly dispatched the echoes of the beasts which had destroyed this ancient city, though I could plainly see how she struggled to keep herself together. Dear Ryne kept her hand raised towards her every step of the way, chanting under her breath. Alisaie and Alphinaud pushed themselves beyond limits to make her way easier. The ferocity with which Thancred cut his way through the enemy, taunting each one’s attention towards him as they would descend upon their afflicted friend, was inspiring, in a way. The intensity of the spells Y’shtola was casting boggled the mind, and the speed with which Urianger drew his cards, every single one finding a mark in her, strengthening her as she loosed arrow after arrow, gave me hope she may yet make it out of this intact. I had not touched my bow in some time, but as she was now, I could likely near match her in strength and ability. It broke my heart to see her struggle so.

And so I continued to make my way behind them, dodging stray meteor strikes and blessedly avoiding any manner of beast as I followed. It seemed Emet-Selch was _so_ focused on her that he paid me no mind whatsoever. A flood of protective anger surged with this realization and I quickened my pace as much as I was able. 

I finally came to where they faced off for their last confrontation, watching in horror as the light finally seemed to overtake her. My heart froze when she collapsed and I struggled to see her through the great pillar of light which had erupted around her. The moment stretched, and I tried to think of anything I could do to save her at this point, but in my panic and despair, my mind was devoid of any solution. 

And then, the light dissipated, and she stood tall, renewed, triumphant. The Warrior she had always been was born anew, somehow. A man’s voice sounded from her then, and I realized after a beat that _he_ must have been the presence at her side all this time, unseen to all but her. Silently, I thanked whomever it was for saving her where I had failed, and whomever had sent him in the first place. I was returned to the moment at hand as Emet-Selch taunted her, having long since incapacitated every last Scion, and it was then I revealed my presence to both of them in defiant response to his chiding her for having the audacity to challenge him alone. 

“We stand together!” I cried, mustering what little strength remained to me, finding just a little more in the look of surprise the Ascian spared me once I had announced myself, and taking the last I needed from the warm, relieved smile she gave me when the Ascian’s attention was turned. Deeply I inhaled as the enemy postured, sure as he was of his impending victory, and spoke the incantation my sweet Warrior needed. 

“Let expanse contract, Eon become Instant...”

The Ascian’s eyes widened in realization and my voice gained force with the power inside growing ever stronger.

“Champions from beyond the rift, _heed my call!!”_

Portals of light surrounded her as she stood before the frazzled ancient, confidence radiating from her eyes. I found myself some measure of disbelief as to her mysterious recovery in the midst of all this, but I am not a man to question when miracles are given. Aether surged through me as I summoned as many wayward heroes as I could, and just as seven men and women answered the call, my legs would no longer support me and I collapsed, utterly spent. I remained just on the edge of consciousness to maintain the spell or cast others if necessary, to heal her wounds or bring any back should they fall. An unnecessary quest, in the end; the group of heroes, fearlessly lead by my love and light, had things well under control. That, and Ryne and Thancred appeared from the darkness, as if they had always been part of it, to whisk me away to a distance of relative safety. There, Urianger and Y’shtola apprised me of their plan to seal the Ascian away in an auracite crystal, which my accomplice had prepared in advance for just such an occasion. I offered my assistance, but Alisaie quite brashly denied it, her brother more tactfully explaining that they would not have me deplete myself entirely, lest they earn their champion’s ire. I could not help but smile, albeit ruefully, at that, and acquiesced as the Oracle and her guardian assisted me until I was well out of the way. 

From there, I bore witness to their extraordinary, bittersweet victory, the latter as I could not help but feel some measure of empathy for Emet-Selch as he faded away with a sad smile on his face. I will be sure to document what we had learned about the Ancients, just as I had with Allagan society. They deserved to be remembered just as any of us. A shame our time’s only experience with Ascians has been overwhelmingly negative; they lived in the most incredible ways I have ever seen.

As the Scions basked in their victory and their Champion’s safe recovery, I shared in their relief until, all at once, the gravity of everything I had done flooded my heart with guilt. I rose to my feet and limped slowly to their side, anxious and a little fearful, truth be told, of my friend’s anger. Surely she would resent me for trapping her friends here and putting her in such danger. Wringing my hands with unease, I offered her my heart in apology; to all of them, but I had wronged her most of all. Much as I wanted to, I could not even look her in the eyes for fear of seeing nothing but disdain in them. A ridiculous phobia, I concede, given our time together to that point, but one nonetheless I was powerless to shirk. I was fully prepared to take responsibility for my actions and accept her judgment, whatever that may be. 

“‘Tis good to see you awake, G’raha Tia.”

As my eyes shot to her bright smile, my entire body, crystal and all, was overwhelmed by a physical manifestation of my relief, my love, my shock at hearing my true name once more, and the sobs which wracked my body nearly brought me to my knees. I managed to pull myself together enough to meet her gaze once more, allowing the flood of emotion within to shine as clearly as in the fond smile with which she rewarded me. ‘Twas a near thing I did not break into sobs once more... I truly _did not_ deserve her. And yet, here she stood, with nothing but affection for this old fool. 

I will not rest until I have proven to her how much she means to me, beyond any doubt, beyond the limits of time and space. I will find a way to return her friends to her, and then, I will find a way to travel freely between realms so as to remain at her side, always. But in the meantime, with tears in my eyes and running down into the corners of my smile, all I could manage to say without breaking down further was this:

“Well... ‘tis good to be awake.” 

-Archon G’raha Tia  
_Student of Baldesion, Caretaker of the Crystal Tower, Exarch of the Crystarium_

_Account to continue following a time of rest and recuperation. Also, I should like to spend some time with her before she returns to the Source for a time._

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I’ve had the biggest soft spot for this husbando since 2.0, given we’re both bards and both Miqo’te, and also I love his personality, so when I was right from the start about it being him, I had to get some feels out on paper. Idk. Wrote it on my phone notes here and there when I had some spare time and thought I’d share it with the crowd. No smut, but I think almost everyone else on this train I’m driving has that covered in my stead. :3


End file.
